Wednesday, February 27, 2013

It's time again for Wednesday Briefs, a blog hop in which writers
post a 500-1000 word flash story—or episode, in my case—based on weekly
prompts. At the end of my post, you'll find links to all the other Wednesday Briefers.

I’ve opted to continue my science fiction M/M story “Useful Things” using one of the visual prompts that spoke to me.

If you’d like to start from the beginning, here's the link. [Chapter 1]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Useful Things #18

Rasvim curled his arms over his head, distraught at
what he’d done. He’d spoken back to an Aeth…had raised his voice.

Don’t
call me that!

He was going to die. He’d seen other humans die for
less. For refusing an order…for allowing a moment of anger to flash in their
eyes, Osvith had ordered them torn to shreds. How had he let his control slip
now?

“Listen to me, my special one, and remember my
promise.” The low rumble of Majak’s voice didn’t sound like that of a predator
intent on harm. “You have nothing to fear. I will not hurt you, whatever you
say to me, however you say it. Not in private. Not when we are together like
this.”

“Private?” Rasvim gasped the word, amazed his mind
could shape a word at all. But he absorbed its meaning. They were alone.

“In front of others, I would be compelled to punish
you to protect my own status—but I would not hurt you even then. I will never inflict
harm. No death. No feeding. No cruelty. Do you understand?”

It had been easier before. Easier to let Aeth words
fall to every side of him while he listened for the ones he must obey, upon
which his life depended. He had learned those first. Later, to combat boredom,
out of a desperate knowledge he might someday need them to survive, he had
learned the language. He had said more to Majak in two weeks than he had said
to Osvith in five years. Osvith had used him to mindlessly regurgitate
information he had been fed or overheard while left in the company of unwitting
visitors. And for sex.

Majak wanted something else. And Majak’s words would
not slide past his mind the way Osvith’s had. The words stuck in his brain and
clamored to be understood, if he would just let them link into his thoughts.
Majak wanted him to understand.

But
what? Why?

Simply to escape scrutiny, Rasvim nodded that he
would listen.

Majak sighed. “My race evolved in violent ways, even
the best of us can be vicious. But your poor race was discovered by the worst
of our kind, by criminals. When the first of the Var Sareem came to this planet
and found evidence of what had been done, we were appalled. That is why I came
to your world. What I learned moved me to assume control of the mission to
discover the truth about humans.”

Tears rose to Rasvim’s eyes, but he blinked them
back. “I don’t know anything. My mother called it spilled milk.” Majak’s sudden
look of puzzlement made him realize he’d used human words. He was falling
apart…his childhood leaking through the cracks. “You need someone older. It
happened before I was born.”

“I’m not here to learn the truth about dead things.
I want to learn the truth about you—and others like you.”

No, he wanted to say, though his tongue wouldn’t
fashion the word. Majak was pushing for something he was not ready to hear.

“Rasvim, I am going to ask you to understand
something painful. The humans who were removed from your planet and survived,
the ones bred for meat, were altered and made more useful for that purpose. So were
the ones we now use sexually. Criminal scientists altered the brains of the
offspring even more than their parents, made them obedient, only marginally
intelligent, and incapable of speech.”

“But Enir—”

“I gave him language. I had a neural speech
component created by my scientists and placed into his brain.”

Bright, life-loving Enir had been speechless? Rasvim
drew a deep breath. Outside, the solar wall had shifted, keeping dawn from
flooding the hut with light.

“Humans in Aeth space are herd animals, suggestible,
incapable of critical thinking. Even Enir.” Majak paused, then said, “When a
salvage crew found the corpses of several thousand original humans aboard a derelict
processing ship, our scientists uncovered evidence about how humans had been
altered. They believe humans—those here, like you—might be as intelligent as
the Aeth.”

“You—you believe that?” This time he met Majak’s
eyes, and received a smile in return.

“I do. I told you that, and I also told you I will
not lie to you. Not ever.”

Rasvim nodded. He remembered Majak’s words, and how
they had made him feel. He had been happy Majak knew him to be intelligent.
“But why does that matter? If we’re smart, if we’re not…what difference does it
make?”

“Because life is commonplace, but truly intelligent—sapient—beings
are rare. There are only four species that we know of. The Aeth are one.”

He realized he knew the name of another. Osvith had
spat invectives against a hated enemy. “The Slig,” he said, and was pleased
when Majak nodded.

“Yes. The Slig are terrifying. We don’t understand
them and our few encounters have been deadly. The other species of intelligent
beings of which we are aware is bound
to an extreme environment and our interactions are complicated.”

“I still don’t understand—”

“I do not know what humans truly are.” Majak lifted
a hand to his hair and gently stroked the ridge Alaksu had created. “I am
hoping to find out by learning what you
are.” Rasvim could not look away from the alien’s eyes or the passion burning
there, seeing it for what it was, naked and intense and focused only on him. “I
want you at my side to show me your mind, speak your thoughts…your ideas. I
want your opinions to inform mine, open portals through which I may see. What
you say, what you show me, will not be new to you, and you may not understand its
importance. But it will be new to me, new to the Aeth.”

Rasvim swallowed. What Majak was saying sounded
impossible. What Majak was asking him to do…reveal…could he even do it anymore?

Sunday, February 24, 2013

According to my friends and my wonderful husband, my books are getting some reviews. What's most interesting is that a consistent theme is emerging: a lot of the reviewers are saying they wish the stories were longer.

So here I sit laughing my butt off because I deliberately wrote those stories short.

You see, until a few years ago I wrote long stories. Really long stories. I'm talking epic, as in G.R.R. Martin style fantasies set in vast, complex worlds. The drafts and hard copies take up a lot of room in my file cabinet--okay, let's be honest, they take up entire cabinets. If the apocalypse comes, I can stay warm for two, maybe three winters just by burning the pages. I even had agents love these stories but say they wouldn't be able to sell them because... yep, too long. "Cut it in half," I was told, and maybe they would take another look. I may sell the things yet.

But I grew sick of hacking my work to bits. You can only cut a story so far before it ends up a mutilated mess. So I decided I would do something new. I would start completely from scratch and write shorter books! Books with less complicated plots and fewer characters. Less introspection. Fewer subplots. Less wallowing in feelings and declarations of love or disappointment.

What happened, though, is I still pack a lot of world-building into these shorter books. My few characters continue to be complex, with messy lives. It's just how my stories are built.

Making my stories shorter was a sound decision. After all, I am getting published now. But it looks like I may need to fine tune my technique. Reviewers are pretty unified in calling for my stories to be longer and my characters to do more on page romantic bonding (they seem okay with the sex, though, which is good). So I'm going to see about creating characters that are a little warmer and fuzzier, at least with each other. And I'm going to write more novels, and series, and fewer stand-alone novellas.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Welcome back to Wednesday Briefs, in which writers
post a 1000 word flash story—or episode, in my case—based on the weekly
prompts.I’ve opted to stay with my science fiction M/M story, “Useful Things.” The prompt I chose this week is "But you
said..."Want to start at the beginning of Useful Things? [Chapter One]

You’ll find links to the other Wednesday Briefs
bloggers at the end of this post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Useful Things #17

Rasvim blinked up at the grid of the hut framework
against a silver-blue dawn sky. A deep breath helped banish the strange dream,
tatters of images the only remnants to remain in memory. He remembered so much,
so many things, but seldom his dreams, which remained ghostly footprints
through the otherwise neatly partitioned corridors and soundly locked doors. He
had awakened in Aeth custody, same as always. His nakedness reminded him of
what he was.

Seeing Majak seated on the other bed, hands
sometimes moving in the n-space of Aeth communications, Rasvim was reminded of
other things. Taking care not to disturb his pre-occupied master, he slipped
off the bed and went to the hygiene closet to tend to his needs and appearance.
He did not take long. Alaksu had treated his hair so at least it stood up as
elegantly as ever. When he returned to the bed, he sat upon it and looked to
Majak, wondering what he would want of him.

Not sex. Even in full arousal and dominance display,
the alien had not used him for that. The refusal still jarred Rasvim, but not
as much as that Majak had called him by his human name.

Jesse. Only Enir had ever asked for it, so only Enir
could have told Majak. The other Aeth—his captors and the slave dealer, even
Osvith—had not cared to learn it. They had named him Rasvim and he had clung to
the sound of it. Enir had said correctly that the Aeth did not name their food.

Majak ceased his silent communication and tucked the
disc into his shield suit. He looked rested and had probably slept. Not all
Aeth slept, but there were some who did. The higher the rank, the more sleep an
Aeth needed. Rasvim did not yet understand the reason, but knew it had
something to do with whether an Aeth was genetically engineered.

“Tell me what you are thinking,” Majak said. He sat
across from Rasvim now, leaning forward, eyes assessing him. His attention no
longer unnerved Rasvim the way it once had. There was no threat in it.

“That you sleep more than the soldiers—and Osvith
said only those who are truebred sleep or dream.” For once, the truthful answer came
easily. He waited to see how Majak would react.

Majak held his gaze. “That is what we Var’Sareem
are. Born, not cloned. Unaltered, at least for the last thousand years. Weaker than soldiers,
smarter, longer lived. And we sleep as the native race did that left our home
world so long ago. Our dreams are shared. Do humans dream?”

He nodded, but said, to clarify, “We don’t share
them.”

“But you do share information in complex ways.”
Majak lifted something from the bed. Rasvim was surprised to see the Oz book. “This
book holds many concepts and the information in it appears false. That doesn’t
make sense that your people would go to such effort to create a document filled
with falsehoods.”

Should he explain it? Could he? There were no flying
monkeys, never had been. There were no wizards or witches. Just farmers and
Kansas, and even those were vanished now. His father had explained about
stories. “Just because something doesn’t exist, doesn’t mean it’s not true. The
book has ideas, and the ideas are true.”

“Ideas?” Majak looked at the cover, so faded now. “The
place in this book is an idea?”

“I think so. My father—” he caught Majak’s look of
encouragement and continued, “—he said stories reveal things that are true.
Like how the lion thinks he’s a coward but he’s really brave.”

“So it is a lie.”

“No.”

“But you said—”

“It’s a false belief. A lie is something else.”

Majak appeared thoughtful, then asked, “What do you
consider a lie?”

Rasvim held his gaze and said, “I think you’re ugly.”

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Then
Majak smiled. “A lie?”

Rasvim’s heart eased out of his throat. “A lie.
Because that’s not what I think.”

“And so what the lion thinks is not a lie because he
believes the falsehood?” Majak’s smile remained, along with a light in his eyes
that said he understood.

“Yes. And the book doesn’t think he is, either,
because it knows he’s brave. That’s the idea. Like how everyone thinks the
wizard is so powerful, but—”

“But he is really powerless except for what their
belief makes possible.”

Rasvim grinned.

“This is a fascinating book,” Majak said. His smile
became something new and vastly intelligent. “Are other human books like this
one?”

Why did he want to know? Majak’s curiosity about
humans was familiar now, but… new warnings ripped at the seams of Rasvim's trust. Maybe he was being used in a different way. What if the Aeth had gotten
as far as they could fighting the remaining humans with weapons, and now they
needed something more? A way to trick them? His cold lips ceased speaking and he
averted his eyes, fearing what they might reveal.

“Rasvim?” The sound of his own breathing didn’t
quite block Majak’s voice, or the order that followed. “Look at me.”

He did so and saw Majak kneeling on the floor again,
just as he had the night before, except this time he was grasping his hands,
holding them, and looking deep into his eyes, delivering the same promise as
before.

“I will not hurt you, Jesse—”

“Don’t call me that!”

Majak pulled back, but did not release his hands. “I
won’t. Only what you wish. It is a beautiful name, and I will not speak it if my
doing so hurts you. I am not like the ones who had you before. Just listen to
me now…”

Monday, February 18, 2013

It's President's Day, which is perfect for announcing the winners for the Swept Away Valentine's Blog Hop. After a cup of coffee to clear my head, my poodle and I entered the comments to my Valentine giveaway post and drew numbers at random. With no further ado, the poodle thumps her tail and the winners are:

And now, in honor of President's Day, here's a nod to Calvin Coolidge (1923-1929).

"Silent Cal" may not have been our most memorable leader but he will always be remembered for his anecdotal exchange with the marvelous writer, Dorothy Parker. Parker, who was seated next to him at a dinner, said, "Mr. Coolidge, I've made a bet against a fellow who said it was impossible to get more than two words out of you." His famous reply: "You lose."

Friday, February 15, 2013

Just for fun and because love is in the air, I’m posting an
excerpt from my next release, Thick as Thieves. My little sword and sorcery book won't be hitting the
shelves until summer but there’s no reason we can’t look in on the boys from this
early chapter as they clean up a bit and get to know each other.

Vorgell removed his clothes and leaned against the dry, warm
wall, arms crossed companionably on his chest. He watched with growing interest
as Madd flung off his cloak and began to strip, folding each item of clothing
removed before placing it on the room’s lone stone bench. An itch made Vorgell
scratch his chin and he frowned. The itching spell had been countered, so perhaps
his beard did harbor vermin. It might
not be so bad if he bathed, then allowed Madd to trim his hair and beard. Doing
so would help his chances. Madd’s bared body, lithe and covered in smooth ivory
skin, looked so healthy and tempting he wanted to scoop him up and investigate
the rest. His cock plumped with anticipation when he saw Madd’s thumbs hook
under the waist of his loin wrap.

“Stop that!” Madd snapped. After four big pails of hot
water, the tub was still far from full.

“I can’t help it. You’re pretty.”

“Well, I didn’t ask to be. I didn’t ask for any this.” The
golden collar encircling Madd’s neck glinted in the low light, its serpent-eye
jewel seeming to watch Vorgell balefully.

Vorgell shrugged. “Neither did I.” He indicated his towering
body. “I didn’t ask for this, however much my life is tethered to it. But
people see me and make assumptions.”

“Assumptions?” A brittle smile tested the edge of Madd’s
mouth.

“About what I am, what I’m good for. What I must want or not
want.”

“Then we have that in common, don’t we?”

The scrawny lad returned, helped by a sturdy older woman,
each hauling two pails. They poured
gouts of steaming water into the tub. It was now half-full, releasing billows
of promising warmth. Holding Vorgell’s fierce gaze, Madd flicked his thumbs,
sending the loin wrap to the floor. Vorgell perked. His little friend was not
so little in the cock. Of course, seeing Madd naked was all his own cock needed
to stiffen to full mast.

Madd, accustomed to the display, just rolled his eyes. The woman
and lad, however, stopped to stare. Flushed and wide-eyed, they gaped either
from interest or sheer amazement. It was difficult to tell. The woman tittered.

“Ay! Best tell the mistress! We’ll all want some of this
rosy pair!” Giggles trickled after their footsteps as they retreated.

Vorgell stared after the departed servants. “What manner of place is
this? A brothel?”

Though it smelled of women, the establishment did not have an
air of commerce.

“No,” said Madd. Cock bobbing prettily, he stepped over the
rim and eased himself into the tub. “It’s a sanctuary. For witches.”

Which explained the women. Vorgell knew only the barest
bones about Gurgh’s population of magic-wielders. The city was ruled by a
tenuous alliance of powerful princes, mystic priests, and sorcerers who called
themselves wizards. He wasn’t quite sure how witches fit in except that the Baron and his
soldiers had roundly cursed the lot and he'd heard there was coin to be earned collecting bounties. Expelling a mighty sigh, Madd sank into the water, arms flung
over the tub’s sides and head angled back in pleasure. Vorgell’s mouth watered.
His companion was the most alluring creature he had ever seen: glossy black
hair flung from his pretty face and rosy lips softly parted, his bodily
perfection reclining languidly with soapy water lapping at sweet dusky nipples.
No mere mortal seeing Madd this way could resist wanting to fuck him.

Answering his rigid cock, Vorgell took a step forward. Madd narrowed his eyes in warning. A change
of tactics was in order.

“Scrub your back?” he offered.

Thanks for stopping by and joining the boys. They'll be making sneak appearances here and there whenever I feel like having fun. Also, I am taking part in a Valentine's Blog Hop that's offering prizes. The post is just below this one should you be interested in entering the drawing, and there's also a link at the top of the post.

To enter, leave a comment on this post and (optional) an answer to this question: What are your plans for Valentine's day? You must include your email address so I can contact you if you win. If I cannot get in touch with a winner, I will pick another winner for that prize.

So here are my thoughts on Valentine's Day.

Love is such a crazy thing. The part about skyrockets and hot fevered dreams isn't even love at all, it's infatuation. It's sex. It's true...we're hardwired for sex. The continuation of the species is written into our genes and we fall easily, madly, and continually in...lust.

It goes like this. We see another member of the species and our brains send a signal down the reproductive superhighway to our genitals. Straight or gay is all in the wiring, but the signal is old as the ages:

"Jump on that!"

Yep. Mother Nature has no patience. Our brains, which have evolved so as to be not completely under the control of our gonads, often try to put on the brakes. Why? Because it's the brain's job to do complex calculations like risk-reward or cost-benefit analysis. The gonads don't care about benefits and costs. They're completely on board with "Jump that!"

The signal to the gonads takes microseconds. Often the brain has no chance in hell of completing its analysis of the prospective partner, our complex needs and assets situation, and predictions for success or failure. It simply cannot meet the demand for information fast enough, with the result that we find ourselves hopelessly confused and being controlled by our gonads and a pair of endocrine glands with which the gonads are in cahoots.

Take an example from my own admittedly sheltered and boring life. One day I'm minding my business in high school, contemplating geometry...when Alan Brown talks to me. He's tall, cute, genuinely nice and a senior! He plays football! He never even knew I existed and now, for the first time in my hormone-flushed life, I exist. My gonads get the signal to jump that. My breathing gets faster in tandem with my heartbeat and I'm feeling all flushed and excited, and, well...it has to be love!

No. That's confusion. But the flush in my genitals and on my cheeks is very real and I'm a goner if Alan isn't a nice guy in better control of his gonads than I am. As it turned out, we were both kind of new at the whole thing and never did much other than kiss and touch. My father got a new job and we moved away the next month, darn it.

I was devastated.

My brain, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as disappointed, because its cost-benefit analysis predicted disaster. Let's look at the many things against us:

I was sixteen.

Alan was eighteen.

Neither of us had a way to support ourselves or the possible child Mother Nature was determined to cause.

There was an excellent possibility of one or both of us relocating in the near future (as indeed it turned out).

There was a really excellent chance of him going off to war. (As it also turned out).

Gonads have tunnel vision and care about none of those things.

Which brings me to love. Alan and I didn't have a chance to find out if love was in the cards. Which is too bad because, you see, love changes the whole cost-benefit thing. We start to consider the other person's well-being, for example, as well as what we want. We make plans to address the risks and bring about higher reward outcomes. We truly care for the other person, as a person and not an object. But we still want to roll around in the nude and do undignified things with each other.

It took some mistakes, and a lot of pooh-poohing my brain's clamorous warnings (having a creative brain has its drawbacks), but I finally did find my true love. Having found him, I would never want to live without, not ever. Especially the lust part. Even my brain is on board with that now.

Tonight, for Valentine's Day, my husband and I are going out to eat. Every year he surprises me with where...and I surprise him with what I wear. Today's a great day to celebrate lust and love.

So...What are your plans for Valentine's Day? For a chance to win one of the prizes above, all you need to do is comment with your email address. My pretty poodle Cate and I will pick a winner on the morning of Monday, February 18th.

Thanks for stopping by! And you can go to the Blog Hop link [HERE] for more blogs and prizes.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Andrew Gordon took all the comments to his giveaway post, used an arcane formula (or maybe it was a randomizer...) and has drawn the winner for a copy of his exciting high fantasy novel, The Last Grand Master.

And the winner is: Julie Lynn Hayes!

Congratulations, Julie! And thanks to everyone who took part in this giveaway. Your comments about favorite fantasy books and characters were really interesting.

Welcome back to Wednesday Briefs, in which writers
post a 1000 word flash story—or episode, in my case—based on the weekly
prompts. Even though tomorrow is Valentine’s day and I thought about doing a
standalone Valentine’s flash, I’ve opted to continue my science fiction M/M
story, “Useful Things.” Majak and Rasvim are on a roll!

The prompt I chose this week is a pic of two people
kissing. Both are obviously human. In my story one of the characters is an
alien, but who would have a picture of that? This is inspiration, though
and…kissing. Yeah. That happens, so we’re good to go.

You’ll find links to the other Wednesday Briefs
bloggers at the end of this post. Happy Valentine’s Day!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Useful Things #16

Rasvim shuddered as Majak’s warm breath stirred the
fine hairs on the side of his neck, and he silenced a whimper. His erection
ached as he thought of Majak using him, but already his body tensed for the
assault. He always hated the moment when an Aeth cock invaded his body…hated
it as hotly as he craved it. Except this wasn’t the way it was usually done. He
was seated on a bed, his legs bent over the edge, and Majak was seated at his
side, not looming over him or pushing him down onto his back.

When Majak’s mouth brushed his cheek, the gesture
was so delicate, so resonant of restraint Rasvim nearly strangled with need. What
would it take to get this alien to fuck him? Frustrated, he turned his head so his
lips found Majak’s, mouthing the sensitive skin folds to get at the smooth,
moist undersides. He encountered resistance, hesitation, but he renewed his
entreaty even more fiercely until Majak emitted his own frustrated growl,
grabbing him by the back of his skull and crushing Rasvim’s mouth to his.

Rasvim gave a muffled cry of welcome as Majak’s strong
lips pried his open to exchange moisture, heat and breath. Each movement
brought discovery. Hot, demanding, pulling desire from his core. He found
himself braced by powerful arms, held, mastered…the way it should be. Until
Majak ceased his plunder, mouth moving from Rasvim’s parted lips to press hot
kisses down the exposed column of his throat.

“I will not use you.” Majak’s voice sounded strained
as he murmured against human skin. “I will not do that.”

“Majak, please, I—”

He quieted as Majak returned, lips gliding atop his,
gentler this time, exerting control. More aware of his surroundings now, Rasvim
caught sight of the Aeth and groaned. Majak was in full sexual arousal and
display, his mating crest lifted and magnificent, dominance striations standing
out in striking contrast on the skin of his neck and head. Rasvim knew but for
the form-fitting shield skin Majak still wore, he would see those markings
trail in sinuous patterns down the Aeth’s shoulders, arms and back.

Rasvim spoke Majak’s name again, lips upon lips, and
gasped at the light push of the alien’s tongue. He sucked upon the tip, his own
tongue tracing the slippery underside while the raspy upper nudged his lip. He
sobbed with pleasure when he felt thick alien fingers curl around his stiff cock.

He arched his back only to discover Majak cradled
him tightly to his chest. The deep Aeth ribcage coupled with a strong upper
limb to hold him captive and yet it didn’t feel like being imprisoned. It felt
tenderer than that. Rasvim could still push his feet against the floor and he
did so, lifting his pelvis and pushing his erection into Majak’s waiting hold.
Two fingers and one of the Aeth male’s opposable thumbs gripped him while the
spongy pad of the second opposable digit lightly caressed his exposed, aching
glans and spread his dripping pre-come. With every thrust, the lubrication slicked
Majak’s fingers, creating delicious friction from the alien’s firm hand.

He was going to come—he wanted to—and he leaked even
more. What Majak was doing felt too good…too much, and he broke down in a
whine.

Again Majak faltered, but only for a moment. His
lips moved in again, laying claim to Rasvim’s mouth and skin with fierce,
bright possession and his fingers tightened around the barrel of Rasvim’s cock,
pistoning him. “Use my hand, Jesse. Take it. It’s yours.”

Hearing his name, Rasvim lost his bearings
completely. His pelvis bounded toward release and he tumbled over the precipice
into the free fall of orgasm. Semen spilled thick and hot into Majak’s waiting
fingers, each jerk successively weaker.

“I’m sorry.” The apology barely formed on his lips
before Majak kissed them away. More soft, shushing sounds followed.

Still holding him gently, Majak pulled him down onto
the bed and Rasvim sagged against the alien’s body, surrendering himself over
to the heavy lethargy of exhaustion. The Aeth’s body heat and calm lulled him
as he futilely tried to make sense of it all. Nothing was making sense
anymore…not even this, that he could lie here after, his mind able to drift
while he remained anchored and safe…

* * * *

Majak waited until Rasvim was sleeping soundly
before he eased his body from the bed. What he had just experienced was too
shocking for sleep. Nothing in his pleasant interludes with Enir had prepared
him for this. Not this heat. Not this raw, consuming desire. He had enjoyed
this human too well, had felt pleasure in laying hold of him…the way Rasvim’s
mouth had opened to his so hungrily, the delicious taste of hot flesh giving
itself to him without resistance, little as he liked the reason. He could no
longer deny that he wanted Rasvim with a craving that someday he must sate.

But carefully. He must be careful.

Majak walked to
the other bed and stripped from his shield suit, wiping his hand clean of semen
but not the memory of how it had felt to hold Rasvim’s ejaculating cock in his
hand. He wanted to do it again. He wanted to do more. What stirred in his blood
far surpassed a simple demand to satisfy his loins. For that, a pet would do,
or a subordinate of his own kind. This…was different.

Voicelessly, he tested Rasvim’s race name again. Jesse. Enir had told him of it. Speaking
it had felt intimate, and Rasvim’s response to the name had been powerful. He
had touched old roots. He had uncovered at last the deeply hidden creature he
wanted to reach and see grow.

Jesse. A human name. A name for everything Majak was
trying to do…if only he could hold back from claiming Rasvim the way he so
wanted to claim him.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Some of you may remember Thick as Thieves, a fun story that started life as a Wednesday Brief before I pulled it at around 14,000 words. Well, I didn't just drop Vorgell and Madd. They went on to have a few more adventures and ended up the main characters in a novel.

Dreamspinner Press just picked up Thick as Thieves and the book will be published in ebook and in print in July/August this year.

Am I dancing? Oh, yeah. It's hard to say who is dancing more, me or the poodle, who knows every time I dance she gets a treat.

I can't tell you how happy I am this book found a home. Vorgell and Madd are the funniest characters I've had the pleasure to follow around in ages. Writing their story was a blast and I hope readers enjoy them too.

The book has yet to go through editing and there's no official blurb just yet, but here's what I put in the query letter:

It’s
lust on first sight when Vorgell the oversized barbarian gets thrown into a cell and
sees Maddog, a young and pretty thief. But Vorgell really can’t help it—while
starving in the woods he killed a unicorn, ate some magic berries, and fucked himself in the ass with the unicorn’s horn, a potent aphrodisiac. Now he’s perpetually erect and can’t stop
thinking about sex. But he’s in luck…Madd is a male witch who knows exactly
how to put Vorgell’s magical body to good use, and he tricks Vorgell into
a kiss that gets them out of their dungeon.

Vorgell
may desire sex in general and Madd in particular, but Madd has no intention of
being screwed by a man twice his size. He’s dealing with problems of his own,
most particularly an enchanted love collar that causes him to desire his most
hated enemy. He wants the collar off…but that requires a basilisk egg
currently being kept in the castle they just escaped. Drawn to each other by
magic and lust, the two men agree to an alliance. Conniving circles of witches,
wizards who breed fiends from their victims, sun virgins whose maidenheads
incinerate any who penetrate them, and a baby basilisk all lend danger and fun
to this tale of two men who just need to find some way to admit they really are
perfect for each other.

Thanks to all the people who commented on the first chapters of Thick as Thieves! You guys letting me know you were enjoying the story played a part in bringing this book to life. I will have a special deal for you <wink> when the book is published.

Not only is Andrew Gordon still conducting a giveaway of his high fantasy novel, The Last Grand Master, on my blog until tomorrow [ENTER THAT DRAWING HERE], but I will be giving away THREE of my own books over the next several days. And an Amazon gift card, too. Here's the schedule:

Thursday, February 14th—Valentine Blog Hop. For this hop I'm offering two prizes: First prize is a $10 Amazon gift card and Second Prize is a choice of any of my books. Comment after my blog post about Is It Love? Drawing on the 18th.

Interested in reading some of my other recent guest blog posts? They're part of the tour for my new release but hey, they're good reads! :) Each post is unique to the host blog.

Fan Art. Writers love fan art, and several writers share work their fans have created in this visually exciting post.

Family and Faith. Two important themes of Dangerous Beauty intersect in the character of Endre. Why does this matter? I talk about how I built this character.

Voice. Editors, agents, and even readers are constantly saying they want books by authors who have a great voice. They don't mean singing. But what do they mean? I wouldn't be me if I didn't have an opinion.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

I’m always thrilled to find fellow writers of high fantasy. So naturally when I read a review of a high fantasy novel The Last Grand Master, about a young wizard who must join forces with a great warrior and the queen of the unicorns to defeat a terrible evil, I pounced on the book. If you're like me and love high adventure and sweet, funny gay romance, it's a wonderful read.

Also, Andy will be giving away a copy of the ebook to one of the people who comments on this post, so FREE BOOK! At the end of this post, just leave your email address (necessary to contact you if you win and get the book to you) and your answer to a simple question:

"Name a favorite character from a fantasy book you've
read and what makes them memorable to you."

On with the interview!

1. One thing I love about the Last Grand Master is that it’s chock
full of unicorns, wizards, imperiled kingdoms and other staples of the high fantasy genre.
What led you to write about chosen ones, magic, and adventure?

I think
the first book I remember reading – not read, but I can remember anything about
other than school books – was the Lord of the Rings. For years after that, all I read was fantasy,
the occasional Sci-fi and the odd sports related book. I think I've had my own
story in my head ever since.

The Last
Grand Master sort of evolved from a scene that has since been discarded. But I
think as any writer will tell you, the story took on a life of it's own. I know
it's so clichéd that people say – it wrote itself – but most scenes were just
'there' in my head waiting to get out.
Others took some work. I bet most people will be able to figure out the
ones that 'wrote themselves' and the ones I had to 'write.'

2. I understand this
is the first book in a series. How many books do you foresee and in what
directions will the story go?

Hmm, I've
mentioned this elsewhere, but the story is about 2 million words long and not
quite done. After the self-edit/rewrite,
that 2 million will probably end up about 700k or so That means this could be as
many as 6 or 7 books, but it could be a lot shorter, depends on what the
publisher wants, the readers will buy and how much I really want to flesh this
out.

There are
three main continents on Nendor, plus the very large Island Kingdom of
Dumbarten, I envision the books taking us around the entire world as Farrell
gathers allies and unites the followers of the Six for another all out war to
decide who will Rule Nendor. Book two
will take us to Dumbarten and the Order of Kel.
Book three will take place mainly on the continent of Loudria. IF I take
this as far as I want to – 7 books, I'll go to Erd in one of the books. That part isn't totally necessary, and it
would take most of an entire book to bring us to Erd and what I envision there,
so it depends on so many factors.

Book two will
introduce other elements, the Temples will start to have more input, the gods a
bit more active and we'll learn of new weapons Farrell will be able to use. I also
intend to do a lot more with the Peregrines, especially Farrell's adoptive
brothers as the story moves on. There
will be a lot more magic, new kingdoms, new players. At some point I need to get Meglar more
directly involved, but not just yet.

As I
said, I've written two million words so there is a LOT of history I can flesh
out. My idea was always to present the
entire world, not just a small corner of it. I'm just not sure the readers will
stay with me that long.

3. Okay, let’s say
you’ve met a writer who is brand spanking new to writing fantasy. She wants to
get a better sense of the genre and requests a reading list. Which writers and
books would you tell her to read?

Wow,
there are just so many I'd like to mention. My favorites are Tolkien – of
course – Stephen Donaldson, David Eddings, Ursula Le Guin, Anne McCaffrey and
Mercedes Lackey. I'm a character person,
meaning the characters have to grab me or I lose interest in the plot. I think Lackey and Eddings did a great job of
spending time making us care about the characters. Ursula Le Guin had this vibrant unique world.
Stephen Donaldson's magic was amazing and frustrating at the same time, unlike
Eddings where magic was almost a science.
McCaffrey's Pern was unforgettable. To me, these are must reads for what
a writer needs to do to keep the readers interested.

Another series
that isn't very talked about that I still remember to this day – and that is
the mark of great writing – is the Riddle Master of Hed, by Patricia McKillip. I loved this when I first read it and I can
still remember parts of the books and I haven't read them in decades – Iff of
the unpronounceable name, the High One, the endless tower, the children with the
stars on their foreheads, spending time as a tree to escape the bad guy. I mean
that's brilliant writing if people remember it for decades after they put it
down.

4. M/M is one of the
fastest growing—neck and neck with BDSM—genre in publishing. How do you feel
about having your books defined as M/M?

I don't
know. I like it in the sense that I
think it's great that heroes can be gay or in a male/male relationship. Lackey's books taught me that. But I don't
think of The Champion of the Gods as M/M as much as Fantasy with M/M main
characters. Miceral and Farrell are together,
and their romance is part of the book, but it's just one aspect of them and
their involvement in the story. There are no coming out scenes, no homophobic
problems, no fear of rejection if people learn your gay type problems. So I don't know that I'd define it as M/M. On the other hand, the main characters are both men and in love. Theirs is the only relationship that gets any
focus during most of the story.

That
doesn't really answer the question. I'm
glad it's defined as M/M, but I'm a bit concerned it is a limiting factor when their
relationship is – in my mind – only a small part of the story.

5. Travel feeds the soul and I’m always on the
hunt for interesting places to go. How about telling me one place you’ve been
to that you think should be on my list—and one place in the world that you
would really love to visit someday?

Where I'd
want to go is easier to answer so I'll go there first. New Zealand. Hands
down. My co-author in (Un)Masked is from
Wellington, NZ and (Un)Masked is set there.
I've never visited, but I feel like I've been after writing the
book. Add to that the images from LOTR
and that is my dream place. Sadly with a
16 month old, I'm not sure we're going to be going any time soon. Not sure I'm up for 30 hours of travel with a
child. But never say never.

I'm not
the world's most extensive travel. I
tend to like quiet, do nothing but relax, kinds of vacations. I'm not big on
taking a vacation that I need a vacation to recover from. A jammed packed,
sight seeing vacation is so not my
thing. The two places I've been to that stick out are; Cadiz in Spain and Bath
in England. They're both small cities
that have such history and I love the 'old' places. I like visiting places that
were hundred's of years old before any city in the United States existed. I
also like the local feel of these places. You can walk to more places, there
are more local stores that Wal-marts, those are my kind of towns and I found
both of these places to fit me.

6. I’m
visually-oriented, so I’m dying to ask about your book cover. Who is the
artist? I find the creation of cover art
to be one of “fun” parts of being published. How was it for you?

Paul
Richmond did the cover for The Last Grand Master and yeah I’m biased, but I
think he is amazing. I gave him this
really vague idea of what I wanted and he came back with something pretty close
to what you see. The background changed
a bit, but not the look of the characters.
As an aside, a good friend and co-worker bought the book when I was in
her office. She took one looked at the cover and said Farrell looks like me. I don't
see the resemblance, and it would an amazing coincidence if it were true since I've never met
Paul. But I laughed, so I figured I'd
share that I guess I look a bit like Farrell.

Watching
the cover go from concept in my head to a drawing, to a rough painting, to the
end result was pretty amazing. I love art and I find those with artist talent
to be amazing. I guess a small part of me is envious and watching it come to
life made me feel a bit – a tiny bit – like I helped created it.

7. Writing is a
solitary, often frustrating, and woefully underpaid profession. That said, a lot
of people want to do it, probably because being a writer is considered sexy,
smart, and fun. Have you told anyone in your private life that you write? And
how do they react?

Everyone knows.
At work my supervisor sent out an email
telling folks I had a book published – I can't because it would be too close to
using government property for personal gain. But where from me it would be like
an attempt to sell a book, from her it was something interesting about her
co-worker. The reaction from co-workers
and colleagues ranges from surprised but really happy, to shocked that I have
anything close to a creative side. But
everyone thinks it's pretty cool.

8. Promotion and marketing increasingly takes up
a good chunk of any writer’s time. Most would rather be writing the next novel.
What are you learning about promotion and how do you feel about doing it?

Ah yes, the dreaded promotion and marketing
question. Who knew you had to market
your book after you wrote it, right? I
mean, most of the books I read, I found at the bookstore. I'd browse the
aisles, read the blurbs and think about buying it. Now there are so many books
out there, that it's hard to get 'shelf' space.

I hate doing it, for many reasons. One I feel like
I'm bugging folks. Do my friends really need me to hit them up several times
with the 'news' my new book is out? The
other part of that is the idea of building a social network. It feels a bit like Amway. You remember those
people who'd strike up a conversation with you, seem friendly, then want to
discuss an 'exciting business opportunity.'
Well, building a social network just to sell a book feels weird. Building a fan base is one thing, but
befriending folks so you can try to hawk your book to them never sits right
with me so I'm bad at it.

The other part of this equation is, after reading
and researching for months, I'm still clueless as to what works and what
doesn't. We all know the concept – get your book in front of more people and
hope your book appeals to them. Then hope they tell others and the 'they'll
tell two people and so on and so' multiplying effect takes over. I think that
is equal parts luck as it is about time and effort so there is an element of futility
and...

So yeah I hate the marketing aspect. It feels
intrusive in a way and I'm always wondering if it is really having that much of
an effect because I'm not doing it correctly.
That makes it a very frustrating aspect of the book writing process.

9. What is a movie or TV show that you watched
just recently and really enjoyed?

Does the Super Bowl count? I mean – Ravens!!! Sorry, but those of us from Maryland are
rightly proud of not just the team, but the state of Maryland for voting for
marriage equality and Brendon Ayanbadejo of the Ravens for his unflagging
support of equality.

So, back to your question. I rarely
watch TV that isn't a sports show and sadly, since 'lil q – our daughter was
born – Mike and I haven't made it to a movie.
We watch them now and then on pay. He watches TV more than I do, but
really – as you know from when your kids were young – who has that much spare
time?

I did watch the Walking Dead – it was interesting
and I liked it, but I'm dying to see the new episodes. Everyone at work wants
me to watch the New Normal because Mike and I used a surrogate and I used to
tell folks stories about it that made them laugh. But I've not really had the
time – sorry, very boring I know.

10. Where can your readers stalk you?

Uff – is
this where I mention I have dogs and a shotgun – oh wait, that's for when my daughter
brings home her first date.

My
website is very much a work in progress, but www.andrewqgordon.com is where I post. Twitter is
really original - @andrewqgordon and wow – image this, my email – andrewqgordon@gmail.com. Go figure, no
one else wanted the name.

Blurb:

In a war that shook the
earth, the Six gods of Nendor defeated their brother Neldin, god of evil. For
the three thousand years since, Nendor and the Seven Kingdoms have known peace
and prosperity. But then a new wizard unleashes the power of Neldin. Meglar,
wizard king of Zargon, uses dark magic to create an army of creatures to carry
out his master's will.

One by one, the sovereign
realms fall. Soon the only wizard who can stop Meglar is Grand Master Farrell,
the Prince of Haven, the hidden home of refugees. An untried wizard, Farrell
carries a secret that could hold the key to defeating Meglar—or it could
destroy the world.

While helping Nerti, queen
of the unicorns, Farrell saves Miceral, an immortal muchari warrior the Six
have chosen to be Farrell's mate. But Farrell approaches love with caution, and
before he can decide how to proceed, Meglar invades a neighboring kingdom.
Farrell and Miceral find themselves in the middle of the battle. Farrell pushes
himself to the limit as he and Miceral fight not only to stop Meglar but for
their very survival.

It took the pair several minutes to wade
through the throng of well-wishers. When they reached the central staging area,
Farrell scowled as he scanned the stage.

“Didn’t Horgon tell the organizers we
wanted all newly-joineds to meet us here?”

Miceral’s smile faded when he looked
around. “I heard him dictate the request.”

Searching for the festival organizer,
Farrell readied a searching spell when he noticed the official at the head of a
large group of confused couples.

“Guess that answers that,” Miceral
whispered in his ear.

After an obligatory first dance with the
other couples, Miceral led Farrell to a long table set aside for them. Swimming
through the sea of well-wishers, Farrell let out a sigh of relief when they
reached the far corner of the hall.

“Farrell?” He turned when he heard his
name, scanning the crowd for the speaker.

Miceral pointed to their left, just as
Ostert and Lillian made their way through the crowd.

“Congratulations on entering the ranks of
the joined.” Ostert clapped Miceral on the back while Farrell gave Lillian a
hug. Reaching for Ostert’s hand, Farrell stepped back.

“A dress tunic and no sword?” Farrell
smirked. “You even wore your uniform when we came to dinner. I didn’t know you
owned anything else.”

Lillian rolled her eyes and shook her
head. “If you only knew the effort it took to get him to wear this today.”

Miceral reached out to hug her. “You only
have yourself to blame for the monster you created.”

She nodded. “I know. You remind me every
time I complain. If I hadn’t let him wear the uniform to our union
ceremony, he wouldn’t think it’s acceptable everywhere.”

“At the risk of upsetting you,” Farrell
pulled out a chair for Lillian, “I think he looks rather handsome in the
uniform.”

“Thank you.” Ostert gave his wife an
exaggerated nod. “But I still don’t find you attractive, Farrell.”

Farrell laughed, remembering their
conversation when they first met. “That’s a good thing, since you’re about to
become a father soon. I would hate to have your lovely wife vexed at me.”

“Hey.” Miceral poked him on the upper
arm. “You should be concerned about your new life partner. Telling other men
you think they’re handsome on our union day is not the best idea.”

Realizing the mistake he’d made, Farrell
couldn’t think of a good comeback. He must have looked as confused as he felt
because Miceral pulled him closer for a long kiss.

“Do that some more and I won’t even
notice other men exist.” Farrell leaned in for another kiss before he let
Miceral step back.

“Were we that bad?” Ostert asked his
wife.

“We? No, we weren’t, but you were
worse.” She smiled at him.

“Me?”

“Oh, yes.” Farrell pointed at his friend.
“For days after the ceremony you wore a smile as wide as your face.”

“So how’s the baby?” Miceral asked.

Ostert’s face broke into a grin. “The
healers say he’s doing great.”

Farrell turned to Lillian. “He? I thought
you said you didn’t want to know the sex.”

She let out her breath and turned to her
husband. “I didn’t, but I agreed to find out if he agreed to dress properly for
today.”

Miceral laughed. “I think she played
you.”

Turning from his wife to Miceral, Ostert
looked deflated. “Really?”

Putting an arm around his friend, Miceral
shook his head. “If she really didn’t want to know, do you think she would have
bargained just to get you in a tunic? She obviously didn’t mind finding out,
but used it to get you do something she knew you’d resist.”

“Miceral!” Lillian’s eyes narrowed as she
fixed her stare on him. “You’re not supposed to tell him my secrets.”

Gently taking her hand in his, Miceral
brought it to his lips for a brief kiss. “My apologies, Lillian. Ostert is like
a younger brother to me. Someone has to teach him what to expect.”

In the process of taking a sip of wine,
Farrell sprayed the red liquid all over the table when he coughed. When he
recovered, he waved his hand to clean up the mess. “You’re teaching him the
ways of women? Where did you come by this knowledge?”

Turning Ostert away from Farrell, Miceral
glared at his partner for a moment. “Don’t mind him. Just remember to ask me
next time.”

I think that's a good note on which to say "Thank you," to Andrew and remind everyone that he's giving away a copy of his funny and magic-filled book to one of the commenters on this post. Just leave an email address so he knows where to send it... and an answer to this question:"Name a favorite character from a fantasy book you've read and what makes them memorable to you."